His Eye is on the Sparrow
by reject187
Summary: Uhh...Race fic...more serious than most...tried not to be ms, but might be. Raven is Race's best gal friend. What happens when he sees something unexpected from her?


No own Newsies.

"And thus, I fold, for I suck at poker."

Raven slapped her cards facedown on the table. Race, across the way, looked at her suspiciously. Raven could usually come in at least second to his hand. But a lot of things about her were suspicious lately. He leaned forward, his face sunken by the eerie lantern light. His grin seemed evil by the flickering flame.

"Wit da little lady out, I call. Show ya hands, fellas." Race continued to look at Raven. She grinned right back, leaning back in her chair and stuffing her hands in her pockets. A breeze from the open windows gave some physical relief to the poker players on the steaming summer night.

Raven was atypical. She was barely five feet, and almost looked ten, opposed to her actual age of sixteen. The guys gave her a lot of grief over that. But it did mean that she sold well-almost as good as Jack. Her shoulder-length hair was black as coal and strait as a stick, but it was her eyes that gave away her name. They were raven, so much so that it seemed as if she had no pupils. But they sparkled like onyx when she was particularly happy. They were sparkling now. Race continued to stare. She was much too happy to be Raven.

She'd already put three dollars in the pot. Where on earth she had come up with that much, he'd never know. And then she folded! What kind of person would fold with three bucks in the pot?

_Raven,_ his mind very logically stated. He turned his thoughts back to the poker game just in time. Blink was showing his cards.

"3 Johns." He nodded to Race, who smiled in satisfaction at the three jacks.

Mush was next. He grinned as he slapped down his cards. "4 Landladies." Race again smiled his infuriating grin at the four queens, as he spread out his cards on the table.

"Four kings, fellas." He reached to take the pot. He never kept all of the money, usually about half, and divided the rest among the other players. Those playing Race were glad of his policy, since they usually went broke trying to beat him. And he always won. He gave shares to Blink and Mush, then offered some to Raven.

"Nah, I'm good." Race again looked at her questioningly, as she slid off her chair and made for the door, smooth as a snake. "See ya tomorrow, guys!"

A chorus of goodnights were interrupted the click of the door closing. The game broke up, lights turned off, and in a few minutes everyone was asleep.

Everyone except Race, that is. In the moonlight streaming through the window, he shuffled cards continuously, his eyes transfixed on the five across the table. Raven's hand. Still untouched, still facedown, still begging him to look. Finally, he reached across the table, curious to see why she folded. As he lifted the cards, he sucked in a breath.

Four aces and a jack.

He sank back against the wall, still trying to catch his breath. He'd never seen a better hand.

_What is that crazy girl up to?_

_Earlier that week_

Raven woke up sleeping on her stomach. This wasn't unusual. But something else was. Her mind still stuck in la-la land, gallivanting over hill and vale, running, running, running, into the arms of freedom. She chuckled into her pillow, then propped her chin up on crossed arms as she enjoyed a backrub.

Wait a second.

Her eyes nervously crossed as she pulled her sheets up to her chin and flipped on her side. Race just sat back in his chair and stared. Why she'd been so jittery was understandable, since no one came up to her room. Raven let out a small sigh when she saw him.

"What the heck are you doing up here?"

Race grinned. This was the Raven he knew. "Well, you were complaining about your back yesterday. Just wanted to return a favor for what ya did last week." Raven grinned at the remembrance.

If you didn't know, Race has arachnophobia. Of course, a spider was on his bed, and Raven was the only person at the lodging house. Kloppman was gone on errands, and everyone else had already left to sell the evening edition. They were both late because they usually sold together. Raven simply killed the spider, but Race thought she was the bravest person on earth at that precise second. Of course the feeling faded away after another nanosecond, but still, it's the thought that counts.

She rolled her eyes at him and sat up, straightening a long undershirt donated by Specs. "You're weird." Race smiled again, to himself this time. This was also like Raven, who always sacrificed herself and almost demanded that nothing be given in return. His thoughts were distracted as he noticed her body; not that it was captivating, but lacking in mass. She noticed his gaze and purposely pulled the sheets back up to her chin. "Now, if you'll leave, I can get dressed, you dork!'

Race obligingly complied, slipping out of the door and silently shutting it behind him.

Raven came out in a few minutes, dressed in a light blue long-sleeved shirt and brown pants. A hat was tugged over her hair. She insisted it was easier dressing like a boy because you can run easier than in "those blasted skirts." She also insisted the hat kept hair off her neck and out of her face.

Speaking of hats, as soon as she saw Race waiting for her, she stole his off his head and sprinted down the stairs. Race protested and quickly took off after her, but it was too late. By the time he gave up on the chase she was long gone. He headed towards the distribution center, still shaking his head. She was some kind of friend.

But as he walked through the gates, he stopped. There was Raven, already buying her papers, a gray hat in her back pocket. She heaved the papers onto her shoulder, noticed Race, and winked. She headed towards him, proud as a matador on his birthday after winning five matches.

He silently waited for her, barely containing his mirth under a veneer of anger. "What the heck!"

She pulled his hat from her pocket and sheepishly handed it over. He shoved it on his head and stood staring at her. But he was soon surprised. For she reached up, grabbed half of her papers, and handed them to him. Her smile was now teasing, as he stood with his mouth open. "I bought for both of us." He still stared. She impatiently stomped on his foot and started away. "Are you coming with me or no? I thought we were selling today."

He rushed after her, hopping every few steps on his good foot.

Later that day, right before they took a lunch/dinner break, Race removed the previously fought over hat and swiped his brow. Man, it was hot. He'd already rolled his sleeves and unbuttoned his shirt halfway. According to the paper, the high today was a ninety-five. He glanced over at his selling partner.

Raven looked as if she was absolutely roasting. Sweat rolled down her cheek as she hollered out another headline. She'd also partially unbuttoned her shirt, but still hadn't rolled up her sleeves.

Race shook his mind to forget the day, but it still lingered in his mind like a bad Limburger cheese smell. He continued to shuffle cards, his mind torturing him more and more by the second. Finally he couldn't stand it anymore. He tucked the deck into his pocket and headed out of the house.

A few blocks later, he hit the square. The statue of Horace Greeley taunted him and his sleepless demeanor. He turned to go, but stopped as he saw a match being lit. It was shaken out after a few seconds, but a glow still remained. A cigarette. Stupid, he knew, but he went over to check it out.

"Whatcha doing up so late at night, dingus? You should be home with your momma."

A rough, familiar voice stopped him at the corner of the statue. He leaned against the rough concrete. "I could ask you the same thing, Raven."

She stepped out of the shadows, a knowing look on her face. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Nah. You either?" She didn't answer. He slung an arm over her shoulder. "Then why don't we walk together for a while."

She stiffened and removed his arm. "Uh…I'd like to…but…uh, could you meet me here in…say…ten minutes? I…uh…got an errand I gotta run." Race almost asked what kind of errand, but shut his mouth on that.

"Fair enough." He turned to go, walking nonchalantly down the sidewalk. But something told him to watch her. He was curious as is. He looked to see that Raven wasn't watching, then stepped into the shadows.

He watched the unfolding scene in mute horror.

Raven quickly glanced around, and seeing no one, put out her cigarette. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her pocketknife, typical of newsies caliber. A click reached his ears. He couldn't tear his eyes away as he saw her pull up her sleeve. The knife flashed in moonlight as it tore through her skin. Unconsciously, tears rolled down his face as he watched his beloved friend, Raven, cut her arms. He stared as she wrapped her self-inflicted wounds with small strips of sheet. Then as she pulled her sleeves snugly over her forearms. He tore his eyes away from the hideous sight, sinking down to the dust, trying to get a hold of himself.

A few minutes later, he had stopped crying, and emerged from the shadows, in control of himself. He walked over to Raven, hands in pockets, trademark grin on his face. She turned to him with a small smile. "Let's go."

He slung an arm over her shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his waist. They talked some, but mostly walked in silence. About an hour later he stopped. She looked at him, her eyes showing her confusion as they wrinkled slightly.

"I watched."

Shock appeared on her previously calm face. Almost immediately she left the comfort of his arm and wrapped her own around her body.

He roughly grabbed an arm, wrenching it away from her body, and pulled up the sleeve. She grimaced, looking away as he studied it. Her head whipped around when she felt hot drops fall on her sensitive inner arm.

She saw him crying. Crying for her. For what she was doing. And her own tears were released from the barrier holding them behind her eyes. Their tears mingled as they fell onto the wounds.

His voice finally came through in a broken whisper.

"Why?"

She finally looked into his eyes. The despair and loneliness she felt almost constantly was mirrored there. But despair and loneliness were not for him to hold. Only for the moment as he grieved her decisions.

"Everyone's been there, Rave. Everyone's been to the point where life's so bad you just wanna curl up and die. But we all overcame, Rave." His voice choked, but he forced himself to keep talking. "I learned something there. What I learned," he paused, swallowing emotion, "what I know, is that He's got an eye on the sparrow." Race smiled tear streaks starting to dry. "I'm sure His eye is on Ravens, too."

Not caring that she stiffened in apprehension, Race wrapped her in a big bear hug. Soon she relaxed, leaning into him. Race silently prayed and pledged that he would never let his friends suffer alone.

As the sun rose over New York, bringing with it the smoke and the dust and the street vendors and life flooded into the streets, Raven realized she was never alone.

Ok, I do realize some parts are really sappy and should be rewritten, but this was "a story I needed to write, and I wrote it in less than an hour…" (singing to the tune "For Once and For All…stops, embarrassed, and continues.) Yeah, some of these elements you may see in other stories of mine, going to be written soon, because they are good ideas, and this is like my platypus story. I started it meaning to be longer, but…yeah. It turned out this way. So, don't kill me if I use the start in another story, cuz it won't be the same story…I hope. I really really hope not. So if this was too serious or too weird or whatever for you, don't hate me for it. I needed to write it. And I'm started to be repetitious so I'll shut up and let you review.

Smile! You're on Candid Camera! Lol! Yeah…ok.


End file.
